Title:The Black Cetra

(A/N: It is probable the title will be subjected to changes)

Chapter Title:Prologue - Stepping Through

Author:DancingUnderRainOfBlood

Words Count:3.240

Summary:After studying the Veil for years, Harry finally discovers its true nature. Tired of how things are going in the wizarding world and searching for redemption, he steps through.
It has been 7 years since the war. 7 years since he has lost his only reason for living.
Now in a different dimension, Harry has to start over from the beginning, this time under the guidance of his new Mother.
With a new purpose, he'll find himself involved once again in events that will shape the course of the world.
Faced with different magics, obstacles and battles, Harry will have to fight to not lose his new life, friends and family, as well as the one he thought lost; for things are never simple for Harry Potter. SLASH–––you've been warned.

Warnings: SLASH, MxM;boy love; boyxboy story. Het(m/f) as well but for side pairings.

Apart from this, mentions of gore, war, violence, past abuse and characters death (HP World), AU, and...Well, if I find something else I'll warn you at the beginning of the chapter. If someone finds I should add any warning, please tell me and I'll add it.

Pairings:mainly I was thinking of a Harry/Sephiroth pairing, but there is a great possibility this will become a threesome - as I've not yet decided you are free to tell me what you think about it ;)

For the other pairings I'm still undecided. I'm open to suggestions for both slash and het couples. Maybe I'll even add a poll once all the characters are introduced.

Disclaimer:I do not own either Harry Potter or Final Fantasy VII, if I did, there would have been lots of SLASH everywhere u.u - I own only the plot. No profit is being gained from this story by anyone.

A/N: This is the first story I've published and among the first ones I wrote in English; it is also among those - very few - I plan on finishing, even if it will take me a long time. In truth I already have the first few chapters down but I still have them all on paper, so please bear with me.
Apart from this, I hope you enjoy yourself and tell me any idea or constructivecritic you may have. It would help me improve greatly.
Well, on to the story then.

.o00o.

CH1: PrOloGuE— Stepping Through

Harry put down his last paperwork for the day, sighing softly as he pinched his nose between his fingers.
It had been seven years since the end of the war.
Seven years since he had pierced Voldemort with his twin blades.
Seven years since he had last held his Belo...

Standing up Harry shock his head, not wanting to finish that thought.

Barely months after his defeat of snake-face, he had been made Auror on the public insistence.
They hadn't even let him finish his Hogwarts years, nor had they waited for him to go through the normal Auror training (not that he'd really needed it, but that was beside the point).
They had thrown him on the field so early after the Final Battle, not even giving him any time to mourn properly. Not that he had any right to complain. They had needed him to catch every one of Voldemort's followers still free to roam and he felt it was his duty to make the streets safer after all that he had done—all that he'd caused.

A little more than a year later the wizarding world had been free of Death eaters and he had been made Head Auror.
He had married Ginny that year, not really having a say in the matter. He had just woken up one morning and seen the announcement in the Daily Prophet. Once he had come down from his shock, it had already been all set and he couldn't say no without ruining Ginny. Thus, he had gone along with it, not saying anything. Not that he cared one way or another—he didn't seem to care about anything since...that day.
They had been married for five years now, and their marriage was not a happy one.
Ginny was always angry at him for some reason or another, lamenting his lack of enthusiasm, his lack of ambition and his tight hand with money.

As he gathered his things, Harry shook his head.

He really couldn't understand why. After all, what enthusiasm did she expect him to have after being tricked into marrying her? And she had known from the start he did not care for fame—hated it even; hated the fame that came from his sins, from the innocent blood spilled by his own hands—and about the money instead…well, he didn't really see the need to desire for more. He simply thought there were better things to spend his money on than satisfying his wife's every whim—like offering founds and helping their society where he could. Not that she didn't have everything she could ever need of course; it simply was never enough for her.

He never would have guessed Ginny to be like this. The shy, awkward, innocent fangirl he had met so many years ago had become a greedy, luscious, power-hungry woman. It really was true that fame and money could change people – especially if those people had yearned for a better lifestyle all their lives and used to get their way. Ginny had always been the one most coddled and most spoiled after all. All her whims satisfied and all she wanted readily provided - if within their possibilities - tanks to her being the youngest and the only long awaited girl.

But he couldn't complain for his fate. It was his punishment, his only possible redemption.
Many people had been lost in the war, and so many felled by his own hands.
Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Remus, Sirius, Moody, Kingsley, McGonnal, Tonks, Hagrid, Fred, Dean, Seamus, and D...

(no, better not to think about it)

And those were only the ones close to him; There were so many, many more...
The only ones he had left were George, Neville, Luna and, ironically enough, Severus Snape.
They had silently agreed to a truce the year before his kidnapping; and after the war they had come to a mutual understanding. He could still remember perfectly the look of raw pain and understanding in those onyx eyes as he cried in the man's arms.

They had become rather close those past seven years—Harry going to him every time Ginny became too much, and Snape searching him out when he needed the companionship of a kindred soul. He was the only one he had left in Britain.

George had moved out a few weeks after the war, opting to join Charlie at the dragon reserve in Romania. He had never been the same after Fred's death. Neville and Luna had left as well: they married a few years after the war and had moved immediately after, choosing to travel the world. The last time he had heard from them they were in Italy after the last sighting of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. He only saw the three of them once every few months now.

He really missed all three but really, he couldn't blame them for leaving. It was painful for him as well to remain here, with so many reminders of what he had done and lost—where he was hailed a hero for being a murderer, and paraded around as a puppet.

Closing his office behind him, Harry made his way through the Ministry.

He hated his job.

He had tried everything he could to better their situation, to help their society regain the glory of the past and to correct the errors that brought about so many wars in the first place. He did everything he could think of to redeem his actions and help overcoming the consequences. He opened orphanages for those left orphans by the war – no matter from which side – and hospitals to help heal the wounded, both in mind and body. He gave founds and even opened safe houses for all those innocent wizards and beings prey of prejudices.

He tried everything he could to curb the prejudices and the corruption, to make them see reason. He tried using his seats on the Wizengmot to try and pass laws for those who couldn't fight for themselves and make them see, if they kept going like this it wouldn't be too long till another dark lord will rise to power—or they killed themselves with their fear, whichever came first. But they wouldn't listen. They were so blinded by their fears and prejudices it was revolting. He'd even tried to use his hated fame, thinking that maybe it could finally bring about something good, but even that had been useless. The people at the Minister seemed more interested in making him their public face, their poster-boy, and use him to do their dirty work than listen to what he had to say—merely looking at him condescendingly before sending him home with a pat on the head if he tried to propose something.

He felt like a doll sometimes, put in display at every ball, every event, being paraded around proudly as their prized propriety only to be put aside when things got down to business and they didn't need him anymore. He felt so powerless, so helpless and he hated it; but if the treatment from the Ministry was frustrating and irritating, the one he got from the public was completely unbearable.

They all treated him like a hero. Looking up to him, praising him, admiring him, pointing at him, whispering about him, looking at him with awe. He loathed it.
He just wanted to shout he was no doll, and most certainly was no hero – He was no role-model, no leader of the light. He wasn't even sure he was so light anymore.
He wanted to shout at them he didn't merit their praises, their thanks, and that they shouldn't look up to him, respect him, admire him.

He was no hero.

He was a monster with bloodied hands and a soul so shattered and full of sins it was entirely black. He deserved to be thrown in prison, not to be hailed as their hero.
But he didn't say anything – he couldn't – and remained silent.
He knew it would do no good anyway. He had tried before, but nobody even listened to him.

Severus said he was being foolish, that he didn't have to repent himself; it hadn't been his fault and if those dunderheads didn't want his help then it was only their loss. He shouldn't bend to their every whims and should just live his life as he wanted. But Harry knew the man understood him. Understood the need to redeem himself. Why, the man had done the same, spying for the light to repent for his past sins. On this, they both related perfectly and he was grateful he could share it with him.

But he couldn't just sit there and do nothing anymore.
If he kept going like this, he would have no possibility for redemption.
At least when he had been an Auror, he had felt like he was doing something useful, something helpful. But now the wizarding world had settled down once again and there was no more need for him. Not really.

He had been promoted to Head Auror to be their poster boy, their public face, the one they used when they needed to do or get something. He spent most of his days locked inside the Ministry, doing paperwork and being paraded around.

He couldn't stand it.
He'd had enough.
For years he had gone on like this, hoping soon things would change, unable to do anything else; but now he'd finally found a way out.
Or so he hoped.

Reaching the magical elevator, he stepped through, beginning his descent.

Four years ago he'd requested a move to the Department of Mysteries—Ginny had been furious with him for months after that. They had refused him of course – At least officially; they couldn't lose their public face after all.
Unofficially, though, he now got to work in the Death Chamber, where the Veil was locked away.
The same Veil that took away his godfather—his last chance for a happy childhood and for a family that loved him.

He hated the dam thing but somehow, he couldn't help being fascinated by it.
He could hear the voices whisper to him, singing to him, and sometimes he could also smell the perfume of flowers.
He spent years studying it – trying to decipher its secrets – and finally, two years into his research, he made some progress.

Studying the Veil attentively (or obsessively if one were to ask Ginny), it hadn't taken him long to discover the strange incisions running all along its frame, but nobody could tell him what they were or what they meant.
For over two years, he had searched and researched everything he could, finding nothing. But finally, after all his hard work, he discovered what they were: Runes.
Runes so ancient they had been forgotten for millennia and only few, fortunate species had the key to unlock their secrets.

He'd discovered it by accident, really, he mused as he got out of the elevator.

He had been visiting an old friend when it happened. He was someone very few people knew about, and even fewer could connect them together.
Every time he went to see him, he would always spend a long time in his enormous library. It was one of the most furnished in the entire world, containing tomes most outside of it had forgotten about and other ancient ones he had collected through his travels—He'd had many years to collect them after all for Marcus was a vampire, one of the last Ancient Ones still around.

It was in one of those occasions, while he was looking through the almost endless and priceless library, that he found it: a book. One like the many others around it in appearance, but one that inside something very special—At least for him, for in its yellowed pages rendered brittle by time and held together only by magic, were scripted the same symbols craved on the Veil.

Marcus had told him it was some ancient language he had been privileged to learn many, many, centuries ago, and offered to tech it to Harry if so he wanted. He agreed immediately.
He had spent another two years of his life on it, and finally, some days ago, he managed to decipher the scripts on the Veil.

The Veil itself was very old, at least as old as the language, and its frame was all ruined—the symbols on it almost too eroded to see. He'd had to restore it and compare every incision to every existent symbol; trying various combinations of words, and then investigating each plausible sentence.
It had been a long and strenuous work, but he didn't complain. It took his mind away from unwanted thoughts and at least made him feel like he was doing something worthwhile – however minimal.

It was a strange language the one he had learned; made almost completely out of melodious and whispery sounds, like a song murmured by the wind.
It sounded...wrong, on his lips—on human lips.
But that was not the point, for what he'd discovered had given him hope once again.

Harry smiled slightly as he walked through the long corridor he had passed so many other times—the corridor he had made in his dreams 9 years ago, the night his godfather was taken from him.

The Veil wasn't an arch of death as was believed till now; or at least, not completely.
No, it was a Gate, a passageway to another world.
He had been so ecstatic when he'd discovered it—so hopeful.
For what he could understand from the incisions, once one crossed the Veil, they would be judged by the other world's Goddess.

If you lived or not depended really all on the Goddess's judgment.
If she found you worthy and not harmful to Her planet, she will let you through.
If she found you dangerous, evil or unfit, however, you will be met by instant death.
It was risky and the price could be great, but one Harry would gladly take for the reward, should he succeed, would greatly surpass the consequences should he fail.

He would have killed himself a long time ago had he not promised.
He'd damned that promise every day of his life since he made it, but he knew he couldn't die, for if he did, all the people who died to permit him to live would have died in vain then.
His parents, Sirius, Hermione, Ron, his Beloved…
And everyone else as well.

He knew that. He really did, and for all those years he had lived on, doing the only thing he could do: try to repent as the guilt he felt killed him slowly from the inside.
He did not deserve to be allowed Death's embrace.
For seven long years he had tormented himself, rejoicing in his own sufferings but frustrated he could not do anything to help his world.

He stepped into the circular room, waiting patiently as the doors began to spin around him.

He had believed he would go on like this till he died from guilt, but now he had found another option: he could go through the Veil and start a new life in a completely different world, where he won't be the hero or the puppet, where nobody will know him and where he could finally start his redemption. There was no saving someone who didn't want to be saved after all. That had been a hard lesson to learn.

Or, he could finally reunite with his loved ones without the guilt of having broken his promise by killing himself – spending eternity making it up to them. To be truthful, Harry didn't hold many hopes of being let through. His soul was too dark for any goddess to find him worthy. But till there was even a tiny slice of a chance he could make it, he had to try.

Finally, with those thoughts in mind, he stepped through a much familiar door into the room he had last seen his godfather in.

If all went well, he would meet him again. Unlike for himself he had no doubt the mutt would have been found worthy. He only hoped he had not forgotten him as he remade his life.

.o00o.

The Death Camber felt exactly the same as it had been all those years ago: void, still, dead.
The only semblance of life, ironically, came from what was known as the Veil of Death itself.
The only noticeable change in the room since the first time he came here, was the desk he had added in a corner once he had begun his studies.

Stepping in, he just stood here, immobile, watching the flowing cloth being moved by invisible wind and listening to the hummed whispers coming from behind it.

They were in the same language as the runes and, now he knew the meaning behind them, they were even more appealing.
He remembered thinking, all those years ago, how it couldn't be possible for someone dying just like that; falling through a simple…veiland never coming out on the other side.
But now he knew it was so much more than that…

He stepped forward.

He'd had almost a week to prepare himself (and make up his mind).
He had said good-bye to the important people, visited all the important graves, all the important places, left all the needed notes—He was ready.
He had been vibrating all day but had forced himself to go along with his day like normal to not arouse suspicion; finishing his work and only coming down to the Chamber at his usual time. All he needed had been put into his usual duffel bag.

There wasn't much he wanted to bring with himself after all—his twin blades, infused with his own core, a few photos, some clothes, his mother's necklace, what remained of his godfather's two-way mirror, his Beloved's ring and nothing else.
He brought no money. He didn't even know what the currency in the other world was and he could make do on the way – he always did. He didn't even know how the other world would be, nor if he would even be allowed to see it, but he always had his loved magic with him.
Everything else with no affectional value he could do without.

He kept walking. The Veil was so close now…

He wondered how Sev will take it. He knew he was the last link the man had with this place. Maybe without him to tie him here he could finally let go and find happiness somewhere else, away from the reminders of the war and all he had done and lost.
Like George, Neville and Luna did; like he was going to do now himself.

Another step. The Veil was an inch from his nose now, he could feel the air its gentle movement created breathing on his face.

He knew Ginny would be mad he hadn't left everything to her in his will but honestly, she already had the mansion, the cottage, the villa, the remains of his trust found and the main Potter family vault. It could last her twenty lifetimes without working if she was a little careful.
He snorted. Ginny..careful…he had never heard a better oxymoron.

The rest of his gold he left to Severus, George, Neville and Luna, Arthur and Molly (even though now he did not get along too well with the woman and Arthur had stood by his wife, merely giving him silent support from afar, they were still the only paternal figures he ever really remembered), Charlie (who now had gotten together with a nice young man and stopped all contacts with his parents after his mother had refused to accept him as he was) and Bill (who had transferred in France with Fleur after the war). Everything that remained he left to charities.

He could only be grateful to not have a child, for otherwise he would never have been able to do something like this and leave him without a father. Having a family of his own had always been one of his deepest desires and even if the baby wouldn't have shared his Beloved's blood, he would have still cared for his child deeply.

But he had no child and there was nothing here to stop him anymore.

With a last well wish to everybody he cared for, he stepped into the veil.

.o00o.o00o.o00o.

...

A/N: Done!

I've finally managed to post the first chapter of this story! It's been a while since I first wrote it, but I still had to transcribe it in my pc and check it. It probably still has a lot of grammar errors but please be comprehensive, English is not my first language (I'm Italian in case you were wondering) and I've no beta (about this - if any of you want to offer please feel free to contact me. Really).

Anyway, please tell me if you found the story difficult to read, too dispersive or anything else really.

Any comments that may help me improve are well received.

And of course, please REVIEW!